Maybe Tomorrow
by kabukimono
Summary: The night before the closing of the Great Chasm, Ringabel finally confesses everything to Edea: His doubt, his past, his failures to save the woman that he loved, and his own love for her. Edea reacts as always; without a doubt in her whole being. There's no room for regret in each other's arms.


**Spoilers for Chapter 5 and beyond.** This was a self-issued challenge to see if I could write smut for these characters. Turns out I can! Seriousness, silliness, and sexiness all in one package.

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The excitement in the air is palpable. It makes Edea giddy, almost a little dizzy with glee at finally - finally, this time for sure - being finished with their task. It makes the exhaustion of yet another fight, yet another long trek back and forth from the Earth Crystal lift off her shoulders. She feels like jumping for joy.

The elation is in the faces of her friends, too. Agnès looks happier than Edea has seen her in a long time, her face smoothed out and her cheeks tinged with pleasure. Tiz's eyes are bright with joy, and he can't seem to sit still, flitting from one side of the bridge to the other.

And then Edea's eyes slide over to Ringabel, and immediately her excitement vanishes. Ringabel is never as free as the rest of them to walk around the bridge, considering he is the only one who knew how to actually pilot Grandship without crashing it, and right now his fingers are digging into the old steering wheel, the tension in his shoulders painful to look at it. His gaze is fixed steadily into the horizon, the vast expanse of water between them and the Holy Pillar, but she can tell there is something wrong all the same. It's the way his jaw is set, the shadow in his eyes.

They - the two of them, late at night or when eating at one of their favorite restaurants, had talked about it often. His doubt over their chosen path, his dread and growing apprehension with every new crystal and every new world. His memories returning in bits and pieces to reveal a terrible past. Now that Airy's proclaimed that it's over, what can he be thinking?

As Airy once more crows that it would be over soon, there is a jarring movement that nearly sends Edea toppling over into Tiz as Grandship comes to a not-so-smooth stop.

"Ah," Ringabel says, and his voice is carefully measured as he steps away from the wheel. "Forgive me, but I am not feeling well. With such a long journey ahead to the Holy Pillar, I am afraid that I may be too unwell to pilot tonight."

"What?" Edea exclaims. "You can't quit now!" Tiz is strangely silent beside her, as is Agnès.

He offers her a tense, yet apologetic smile. "I'm turning in for the night, my dear. Would you care to join me?"

She scowls at him, not least for the lie, or for the offer, but that scowl is nothing compared to Airy's wrath.

The fairy's shrill voice pierces the air. "We're so close! We have to go to the Holy Pillar as soon as possible! Don't you… don't you want the Great Chasm to close?" Airy flies right up into Ringabel's face as she lectures him, and Edea catches the subtle movement of his hands tightening into fists.

"Of course," he offers, and his voice is low. Dangerous. "However, given that our last attempts were met with less than success, it won't hurt to wait a few more hours."

"It'll work this time!" The fairy insists, flitting around his head. "We've finally done it!"

Ringabel shakes his head and, side-stepping the tiny fairy, makes his way off the bridge.

What's left behind is an atmosphere that's both awkward and disheartening. Edea can't bring herself to look at Agnès… This must be shattering to her! To go so far, and yet to have Ringabel stop them in the end…! What is he thinking?

"We have had a long day," Agnès finally says, her voice quiet. "I should like to sleep so that we can see with fresh eyes the moment that the Great Chasm closes."

Tiz nods.

"I too think that would be for the best. We've still got all this ocean to cross. It takes a while anyway, we wouldn't have gotten there before sundown. You especially need your rest, Agnès." She has gotten used to it, but awakening the Crystals always taxes Agnès and she has yet to rest from awakening the last Earth Crystal.

If they're just going to go for it… Edea still makes an annoyed noise. "Fine! I'll go and see what the Proprietress has for lunch and dessert!"

As she makes her way down to the Drunken Pig, she can't help but note with disgust how high the sun is overhead. Really, what was that boy thinking?

Several hours later, Edea's annoyance has greatly abated. In the time she has taken to eat, work out for a while, spend time with Agnès and Tiz, bathe, and eat again, she has yet to see either hide or hair of Ringabel. That's worrying. He always takes naps during the day, it's practically a necessity, but he has never secluded himself from them for this long. When she had to gone to get a change of clothes, he had been buried under a pile of blankets on the bed furthest from the door, the one that Tiz usually slept in, and hadn't reacted to her presence nor her greeting.

Maybe he was really sick this time.

Hair still damp from her earlier bath, and carrying a plate of food the Proprietress had given her specifically for Ringabel's dinner, she opens the door to their room in the inn.

"Ringabel?" She calls into the dim room. There's still enough light from the sun that she can see the mound of blankets covering the far bed, and the messy of locks of white-blonde hair that peek out. She sees him shift when his name is called, but otherwise… nothing.

Making her way over to him, she sets the plate of food down on the bedside table and drags over one of the chairs so she can sit beside it, rather than sit on it. "Are you awake?" She's torn between staying to see if he's alright or leaving him to get some apparently much needed rest.

After a moment, the blankets shuffle around, and Ringabel pokes his head out, his hair messy and disheveled and sticking straight up. "Is something the matter, Edea?" His voice is tired, but doesn't seem to be laced with sleepiness.

Is something the matter..? Is something the matter? She growls lightly. "You've been here all day. What's gotten into you?"

He doesn't answer immediately, but makes a low sound, and she sees him sit up in bed, then swing his feet over the edge. Dressed in only his undershirt and a pair of thin slacks of the kind he and Tiz both wear to bed, he looks smaller than usual.

"Worried, were you?" His tone is teasing and doesn't match his appearance. "Come to nurse me back to health?"

Edea has a biting remark prepared, but reminds herself she still doesn't know if he's sick or not. Of them all, Ringabel especially has been plagued by nightmares and visions, and she's seen him get sick and collapse on more than one occasion when overwhelmed by one. He's been more and more apprehensive about the Crystals the more time that goes by. She wouldn't be surprised if all of that has caught up with him, now that their task is finished.

"The others were worried about you," she says finally. "You've been in here all day, and didn't even come out for dinner." And she gestures to the plate of food beside the bed. "The Proprietress asked me bring you something before you starved to death."

"Ah, a plate of the finest, most lovingly prepared food in the world. I thank you kindly, and her, of course." And yet, he doesn't make a move to pick it up. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she plows on.

"So… are you going to tell me what's wrong?" She crosses her legs and then her arms, glaring at him down her nose. Perhaps it's unladylike, but intimidation tactics work great on him.

And they also spur him into action. He slowly reaches for the plate before he answers her, pushing the food around idly with the provided fork. "I was simply… resting. I slept for a while, but sleep does not come easily, as you know."

"Are you feeling sick?" She asks, and there's a hint of worry in her tone that she doesn't bother to hide. Even she can be concerned about his welfare.

"I'm feeling fine. Headache no worse than usual." Ringabel admits. "I just couldn't take Airy's gloating anymore. It's been much more quiet here in the inn."

So he wasn't sick. He was just… sulking. She resists the urge to dump the plate of the finest, and most lovingly prepared food all over his stupid, limp pompadour.

"How could you be so… irresponsible, Ringabel?" She asks angrily. "We've come so far, and we're so close! Just a little longer now!"

Whatever appetite that Ringabel might've had is gone now, and he sets the plate back down. He's only eaten a tiny bit. The waste of food makes her even more angry. Good. Anger fuels her.

And Edea can see she's made him angry as well. Or rather, she's made him hurt. She doesn't know which she'd prefer. An angry Ringabel is a rare one, but she wants a fight. She wants an argument.

"Irresponsible? I am irresponsible? You don't understand, Edea." He says, voice tight, his accent gone. "Do we just ignore the warnings we've been given? By multiple people? Ignore all the signs? My own memories?!"

"So that's it? You suddenly turn traitor on us? After all this time?" She can hardly believe what she's hearing. What next?!

"I am hardly a traitor. I just… need more time. Time to prepare." He's upset, she can tell, and her words have deflated him. He's really bad when it comes to arguing with her. It is though he can't win.

"You'd better prepare fast. This is moment we've been waiting for. We're… all so excited," Edea is vaguely aware her voice sounds more like a whine. "Don't be a coward, Ringabel."

He freezes, as though she'd physically hit him. "Coward?" He repeats, and his voice is low and dangerous, invoking an image of a young man dressed head to toe in black armor. No.

Black and white, Edea reminds herself. The two men are _so_ different.

"You're acting like a coward." She tells him, spurred on the tension in the air.

The laugh he makes is not pretty, and her hair stands on end. She… suddenly feels a little sick. "What would you know of cowardice, my dear?

"I know that you're a big, fat coward!"

Ringabel can't take it anymore. He stands. If his intention had been to intimidate her with his greater height, made more imposing by their closeness, it doesn't work. Frustrated, she moves to punch him, but his reflexes are sharp despite his headache. He catches her fist in his hand, pulls her around and twirls her until her back is pressed against his chest, both of hands firmly holding her wrists crossed over her chest.

"Wha-" That's unusual, for him to out-maneuver her. "Get off me!" She yells, made even more livid by his counter, and she lifts both feet off the ground, trying to unbalance him.

That works, at least. Ringabel is not expecting the sudden shift in Edea's weight and he pitches forward and then backward to try and compensate for her weight, falling back onto the bed with a loud crack. The noise distracts him, but Edea doesn't care. As soon as he feels his grip loosen, she elbows him in the side, scrambles around so that she can get the upper hand, tugging on the fabric of his top until it rips.

They've fought before like this, sparred. Edea finds it fun and he lasts longer than Tiz, and is rougher than Agnès. But never have they been so vicious with each other. It had taken months to convince Ringabel to take her seriously and even now his actions as hesitant as he protects himself while trying to restrain her.

He rolls himself on top of her, taking advantage of his heavier weight and greater size to pin her against the mattress. His body is warm and firm against hers, a fact that she for once does not appreciate when she kicks her leg back against his knee, clawing at the nest of blankets for some purchase.

"Edea, please!" She hears him cry out as he tries to restrain her, his voice shocked and somewhat panicked. He doesn't to fight her like this.

"Get off of me!" Is all she shouts in response, because right now, that is what angers the most. Their proximity. His warm, normally so comforting, is now stifling. It's like she can't breathe.

The man is stupid to obey, but she soon finds her right side is free, and she squirms out from under him, throwing her weight back until he's on his back, and she straddles him, her knees pressing hard into his side, her arm in his throat.

She's breathing heavily, but there's fire coursing through her veins, adrenaline fueled by both anger and her genuine enjoyment toward working out. That's not unusual. Even though she was angry, much of her anger has abated with the physical exertion that comes with wrestling, even if it's with Ringabel. What's odd now though, is that he's gone pale, his face no longer flushed with anger.

"W-what's wrong?" Even if she's angry at him, there's worry in her tone. That's not like him. Is he going to be sick after all?

"Don't move," he grits out, and his hands have moved to grasp her hips in a futile attempt to keep her still.

What kind of order is that? Naturally, Edea refuses to listen to him and moves closer still, pressing her arm further against his throat until he apologizes, but that's when she feels it, that hard heat pressing into her rear. It takes her a moment to understand what it is - what it means, but the sharp intake of breath, and the sudden flush on his cheeks is enough to confirm.

"Ringabel! How could you!" She cries, and punches his arm as she makes her way back off the bed. When she looks back up at him, he's slid a pillow into his lap, but she still can't tear her eyes from it, knowing what's underneath.

"Sorry," he grimaces. "It just sort of reacts on its own, you know. Even if we're fighting. "

"A likely story," she fumes and turns to leave.

His other hand grabs her wrist before she gets very far and she stops to look at him, eyes wide. He looks… upset. Seriously upset. And a pang of guilt hits her. She'll hear him out, she supposes.

"Edea, please. I mean it. Not… not that I don't enjoy… anyway. It's inappropriate, and I'm sorry." His apology is at least heartfelt and…. she can't stay angry at him if it's really not his fault, can she? That wouldn't be very nice of her.

"Does it really react on its own?" She blurts out. She doesn't know what else _to_ say.

"What?" He's taken aback by the question and both of their eyes flicker to the pillow in his lap. "What? Yes, of course. It happens naturally. Men can't always control it."

Despite herself, Edea finds herself curious. Her sex education had consisted of a tutor reminding her that good girls saved themselves until marriage and a brief overview of which things went where (complete with the most flowery terms for the various body parts that Edea had ever heard). "Doesn't it hurt? When it gets hard like that."

She's flustering him, she can tell, and not only because of the flush across his face. She just knows him. And he answers, his hand letting go of her wrist to instead lie over the pillow in his lap. "No, it's. Not quite painful. I - I mean, yes, I suppose it can hurt at times, certainly when it's hit, but it's more uncomfortable than anything." His voice is losing that suave, playful inflection he tends to use, and she could have sworn she hears it crack. That's kind of adorable, even for him.

The room is getting a little hot, and Edea sits down on the chair again. "So, it just reacted, but not to me specifically?"

"Must we have this conversation?" He has good reason to be embarrassed.

"Hey, you're the one who started poking me with that...that thing!" Her voice rises and he shushes her with red cheeks and flailing hands, glancing toward the door.

"Don't talk about it like that," he hisses. "You'll hurt its feelings."

"Ringabel, your penis doesn't have feelings." Things she would never have thought she'd say.

"Of course it does," and she takes satisfaction in the way his voice cracks again. "It feels plenty." Well. This conversation is getting a little weird, and Edea finds herself laughing. And as she laughs, she hears Ringabel join in as well, and soon the two of them are giggling loudly, until she can feel her side begin to hurt.

She stops as soon as she can and straightens, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Sorry," she says, for the situation she's caused. "And… I'm sorry about earlier too. I should haven't said those things." She continues, because it had been wrong of her to say such mean things, especially to someone who's never been anything but kind to her, in all the worlds they've traveled. It does, however, bring up questions she's been wondering for some time.

"Ringabel can I ask… Did you and your Edea - the one you remember from your world - did you ever…"

She doesn't know why she's asking, or even what exactly she's asking, but a part of her wants to know - what kind of relationship had he had with the Edea of his world?. D's journal - Ringabel's original journal - has a little bit of information about the two of them, but it doesn't talk about their history and their background. She knows that Ringabel was in love with _his_ Edea. Did _his_ Edea return those feelings?

Ringabel grows somber at the question, whether because of the memory of their earlier fight or the memory of his past. He sits up a little straighter, rolls his shoulders back, and sighs. "No."

A simple enough answer. He doesn't look like he wants to elaborate. The same holds true of the Alternis she remembers - his feelings had never been requited, and she feels a pang of regret at his admission of love, his hope for them in the future, and how she had cruelly dashed it. Telling someone who'd just admitted they'd wanted to marry her, that the very idea was rubbish had not been one of her best moments. She had truly handled everything badly, and at night she would dwell on it and pray he had found peace.

But Ringabel continues. "We grew up together, like siblings - the same as yourself and your Alternis Dim, I imagine. I… cannot say what her feelings toward me were, but our relationship was always platonic, familial... I had to yet to confess my love to her in any sort of way. I was acoward."

She listens, quietly. It doesn't seem right to speak. And though Edea has known that his Edea is dead, she doesn't know why the word 'coward' sounds so bitter out of his lips.

"I'm sure I seemed childish in my admiration for the Grand Marshal and his family, an admiration that extended to his beautiful, vibrant daughter. I don't know how obvious my feelings for her were, but she always kind. At least, until she betrayed Eternia and joined the Wind Vestal." And his brow furrows for a moment. "To see my family rent asunder at her naive actions - I had never felt so betrayed, so hurt, and so lost.

"And yet, I do love her," he admits, and he gives a helpless laugh that sounds forced, nearly deranged to her ears, and sends a chill down her spine. His hand rakes through his hair, messing it up further, but he doesn't seem to notice nor care, and that in itself scares her more than anything. "Even now, she is the woman I grew up loving. She's gone, but I still love her. I wish to see her again and beg her forgiveness for all of my failures." The more he speaks, the more his voice blurs until she can't tell if he's speaking as Ringabel or the Dark Knight. Perhaps both.

Her chest is beginning to hurt, and she wants to tear her eyes away from his broken form and leave the room. Instead, she leans forward to place her hand gently on his arm. It feels clammy under her fingers, and it's a long moment before he looks up her, eyes anguished.

"We forgive you," she says, speaking for both herself and her various counterparts in all the worlds. She knows deep down, that Alternis Dim loving Edea Lee was a constant in all of them. "I forgive you." She adds, for good measure.

Ringabel lets out a breath she didn't know he'd been holding, and with it goes all of his tension and his agony. At least for a moment. He puts one of his hands over hers.

"Forgive me," he says again, but there's the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Mrgrgr… Ringabel." She isn't quite as annoyed as she might sound, but she wraps her arms around his shoulder and leans heavily against him, trying to overpower him as she had done to Alternis when she was a child and still only half his size… And just as when she and Alternis were children, Ringabel graciously folds under her insignificant weight to make her feel as though she's won, falling back onto the bed and bringing her with him.

Her chest still hurts, but it's somewhat relieved by that grin he gives her as he lays back on the bed, a grin all too familiar on his face. "Goodness, Edea. If you wanted to be in my arms, you need only ask." But the grip he has around her waist is loose and familial, and she props herself up on one elbow. For a second, her eyes glance down between them, but the pillow is still firmly in place over his groin.

"Don't be stupid, Ringabel." There's no bite in her words.

His smile fades, slightly. "I love you too, Edea."

That… she had not been expecting. "What?" she manages to gasp out, and when she tries to pull away, his grip tightens, his face serious.

"Will you hear me out? Please."

When she says nothing, but fixes him with a gaze, both confused and apprehensive, he takes it as permission to continue. "I do love the woman I grew up with, but you are an Edea I've spent worlds traveling with, who possesses the same light and inner beauty that she does. If anything, I know you better than the Edea I loved first. And I have come to dearly love you too."

"Ringabel, I…" She doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to think.

He shakes his head, his eyes closing for a moment. " Will you accept it? You don't need to return it. I understand if you don't; I've given you no reason to. But my feelings for you are genuine."

Edea's chest chest not only hurts, it feels heavy now, and though she rolls away from him to place a hand over it, they're so close she can't move very far. It doesn't help when he covers that hand with his own, concerned. She watches as he wraps his fingers around hers and pulls it up to press a kiss to the back of her hand.

"I… didn't mean to hurt you." His voice sounds very small to her ears. He sounds upset.

That isn't it, and she shakes her head, unable to vocalize everything she's feeling. She's not good with words in these circumstances. She wants to tell him that she's not hurt, that he didn't hurt her, but this whole stupid situation is painful. His past, his memories; she knows of the torture he'd endured in his world. Not just the painful mental torture of having the woman he loved rebuke him, but of his torture at the hands of Qada, and all the hideous things chronicled in his journal.

Wants to tell him that she does have a reason to love him too, stupid boy. Many reasons.

"What happened to her?" Edea hears herself asking. She needs to know. Needs to know what happened to the other her.

There's a long time before he answers her, but his hand is warm and gentle around hers, flexing every so often. "She… died." He finally responds, and she aches to hear the pain his voice. "Slaughtered by a monster, here on this very Grandship. All I could do was stand in shock." When she looks at him, his eyes are closed, his eyebrows furrowed. He has to swallow before continuing, and his voice is thick. "She was already… gone, by the time I reached her. I was not even allowed to hold my beloved as she passed."

He gives a derisive laugh. "What sort of a man am I, unable to protect that which is most dear to me? I am a coward, as you said."

Now she truly feels guilt, a rare emotion for her. "You're not a coward, Ringabel," she tells him, her own voice soft. "You've made up for that failure five times over by now. I told you… we forgive you. I'm sure she does."

While he smiles, she can tell he hasn't accepted it. Probably never will. "Thank you," he says quietly, sincerely, and he leans up to kiss her forehead.

It sparks something inside her. He's so sad, and she hates to see any of her beloved friends so broken. Edea makes a quiet murmur at the comforting feeling of his lips - he's comforting her?- and before she can stop herself, catches his mouth with her own.

This kiss isn't the first they've had. There've been others, quick and emotion-fueled, adrenaline-laced after battles leaving them half-dead, but this one is different, much different. The tenderness of it makes her ache, and Ringabel leans into it gratefully, his lips slightly chapped, but soft and inviting.

_'What am I doing?'_ She asks herself, as her mouth opens to his gentle, probing tongue, warm and wet and thick. '_You're only showing Ringabel he isn't the only person in love, that's it. You love him too, Edea. Even if you can't admit it.' E_dea groans a little into his mouth, unexpected heat coiling in her belly as their tongues slide together, unsure but exploring. '_Shut up'_, she tells herself. _'No, you shut up.'_

Her inner thoughts have distracted her, and Ringabel pulls away from the kiss, swallowing a little. The man looks just as shell-shocked as she feels inside, a little numb from all the rush of emotions they've faced in the past… hour, judging from the sun outside, and a little relieved that at least some of the tension has faded.

"Thanks," she tells him after a moment, her cheeks feeling hot as she presses her face against his. She's moved during the kiss, moved so that she can straddle his hips again, and though there's that barrier of the pillow between their bodies, she can still feel him between them. "Thanks for loving me."

He kisses her cheek, his lips smiling against her hot skin. "Of course. Thank you for everything, my angel. My beautiful, wonderful angel."

His love makes her sigh. Stupid man. Stupid, sweet man. Edea finds herself nuzzling him, a soft noise escaping her lips. He is really very warm and comfortable, and his solid body feels wonderful underneath her. "Don't thank me, Ringabel. Not until I tell you that I love you too." She pauses, and then adds for good measure. "Idiot."

What follows is an agonizing silence as Ringabel processes her words. He could take it either way. That she does, or that she doesn't… yet. Edea wants to fidget, feeling scrutinized, wanting to know what exactly is going on in that stupid pretty head of his.

To her surprise, he does not speak, but instead sits up, pushing Edea up until she's sitting as well, still straddled across his hips. That pillow is really getting annoying. When he looks at her, their eyes meet and she can see how very serious he is.

"I want to be yours," Ringabel confesses. "Just yours. I… haven't asked anyone out, no other woman, for some time."

"I know," she responds, reminded of their conversation some months - some worlds - before. "And I told you, that I didn't reject just anyone."

He nods. "I…. remember." And he closes his eyes as though the memory hurts him. It probably does. "This is different, Edea. I…"

There's a long silence, and Ringabel has wrapped his arms around her again, pulled her close before he speaks again.

"Edea. I want to be yours for tonight. Will you.. make love with me?" His voice is low, very quiet, nearly a purr, and even though he's whispered it into her ear, Edea can barely make out the words. Heat blooms in her belly. Oh, he wants to… _oh_.

"I don't know how," she breathes out, but it's not a denial.

"I've ah… never had- made love to anyone before either," Ringabel admits, and he sounds a little sheepish. "It just never crossed my mind."

"Really?" She's surprised. "All that time, and all those dates. You never once thought about it?" It makes her giggle, much to his consternation. Alternis had always been so shy, and so focused on the Lee family that he'd never looked twice at another woman. And she supposes that Ringabel was just so clueless that he didn't know what dating a person meant beyond buying her things she wanted and treating her to dinner. That's a little depressing, and she sobers up. Ringabel's mind was fractured, she reminds herself. And at his core, he was Alternis Dim - and Alternis had likely been saving himself for her.

It brings a new appreciation to his earlier confession, and Edea turns to kiss his temple, nuzzling his ear. "So we'll find out together then, right? Yeah. Make love to me, Ringabel. Be mine, and I'll be yours. " She says, and her cheeks burn from her own boldness and the decision she's made. Sex isn't something to be taken lightly, she knows that. She isn't going to take this lightly at all, not with him.

He pulls back suddenly and there's open space between them again. She can no longer feel the solid warmth of him surrounding her, and though his lips press gently against hers for a moment, she can tell there is something else that he wants to say. He speaks.

"Are you… certain?" He sounds, looks unsure. "Would you not rather wait for marriage?"

Of all the things to ask now…! Edea gapes at him. "Didn't you _just_ ask me if I would - yes! I'm certain. I've already told you that we'll- " She's about to continue, say that _phrase_ again, but he cuts her off when he takes her hand, leans forward and presses his lips hungrily against hers. She's nearly overwhelmed by the force of it before she presses back, her hands holding onto his tightly. This isn't a battle she intends to lose! Their tongues spar and curl around each other, as though they were weapons. It's messy. Searching for something to hold on to, Edea yanks the pillow out from between them, giving her access to that bulge in his pants, which she immediately presses up against.

Even though their clothes, his member is still hard and hot against the sensitive center between her legs, and she feels her body give an answering pulsation that makes her groan against his mouth. Edea rocks her hips down against his, grinding against that hardness in a vain attempt to subdue that pulse. They're really going to do this, then? He's decided? She already has, and just like she's barreled on toward the path of being at Agnès' side while the Crystals are awakened, she's going to barrel toward the path of making love with Ringabel.

That's probably not the best analogy to use, is it?

She's distracted from her thoughts when he breaks the kiss so they can breathe, and his lips trail instead to her jaw, and down her neck, when he suckles gently on the skin there. Oh, that's nice. The pulsing heat in the pit of her belly is more than enough reason to continue on with this, but she's coming to find that he's not so bad, when he's being quiet and his mouth is distracted by… things. Good things. Already, her higher thinking processes are beginning to shut off one by one, and all she knows is that she's enjoying being here, in his arms.

Ringabel straightens up, and she can tell he's nervous, maybe a little… scared? "Your clothes," he chokes out, and his face is turning red. "They're in the way."

"Yours are too," She points out, but she takes pity on him and rolls off the bed, nearly hitting the floor, so that she can undress herself. She half expects him to watch, to make a comment about her nude form, but he stays quiet and when she glances at him, he isn't even looking; one of his hands is over his red face and he's averting his eyes. Taking things seriously.

Is he really going to be able to go through with this? She was starting to have some doubts. Not because she doubted the sincerity behind his feelings and words, but because she didn't know how much he'd be able to physically take before he had some sort of attack.

But Ringabel also takes the opportunity to slip out of his own clothing, letting it drop noiselessly over the side of the bed, forgotten and discarded. And Edea certainly does not avert her eyes from _his_ form. She deserves some eye-candy, too! He isn't bad looking, for sure. Muscled and toned from months of fighting and years of being the Dark Knight. There's scars on his sides and legs, patchy and faded, but then her eyes drift toward his lap.

"What are you... doing." He asks her flatly when he notices her staring, and his hands twitch as though he wants to cover himself.

"So that's what it looks like, huh?" She manages to breath out. It's okay, she supposes. The first one she's really seen, so she has nothing to compare it to. But it just… it fits him. It's what she could imagine it looking like (not that she had really spent any time imagining Ringabel's privates. That was just wrong). But looking at it causes her breath to catch.

"Edea…" Anything he might've said is cut off when she moves to straddle his legs, preventing him from escaping, bringing herself very close to his exposed body.

"You said it had feelings." Edea's voice is muffled as she bites her lip, giggling slightly from nerves. She really can't take her eyes off of him, and her hands press against his upper thighs, inches away his manhood. "I want to see."

His breath is ragged, a little unsteady, and his hands take hers gently so that she has something to cling to. "It's very sensitive, " he says, and his voice is low. Just the very sound of it makes that heat blaze in her stomach. She's really doing this.

"I guess I should apologise to it," And then realizing how horrible that might sound, she continues hurriedly with a laugh. "For hurting its feelings earlier, I mean." Not because there was anything wrong with it, or with him. He was just fine. "Can I- May I touch it?"

"Of course," he replies without hesitation. "It's yours for the night, after all."

She shakes her head, declining to comment on that, but wraps her fingers lightly around the shaft all the same. It's- it's very weird. Very hot and dry, and alive in her hands, and she can feel his pulse against her fingertips. And it moves, _twitching_ with life as she tries to handle it gently. She's absolutely fascinated by it.

When she glances up at Ringabel's face, their eyes meet. He had been watching her face intently, his blush running to the tips of ears and down his neck, breathing ragged… and Edea finds herself trapped. There's so much there in his gaze - desire and want, but also an underlying emotion that traps her, takes her breath away… Edea has to look away before she gets lost entirely.

"Just tell me I'm if doing something wrong, okay?" She says, and thinks about to the few trashy romance novels she had snuck a glance at in her mother's room when she was younger. They had been dreadfully boring, the heroines too meek for her liking, but they gave her some kind of idea on what to do. She strokes him firmly, as though it were just a sword hilt. The noise he makes from the back of his throat is encouraging.

It's sensitive. she reminds herself, so she has to be careful. She has to make sure she doesn't squeeze him too tightly, though when her fingers flex on impulse, he groans. Has to make sure that the dryness won't make things difficult; she uses a bit of her own spit as a lubricant, and he gasps. As soon as she's comfortable with the way he fits and feels in her hand, she settles on a rhythm in time with her ragged, excited breathing. In and out, up and down. The blood's rushing in her ears, and her own sex is pulsing painfully with need, and she can only imagine how he's feeling.

They're like that for a while, Edea straddling his legs as she slowly, gently caresses his full length, and Ringabel by now is leaning back with one hand for support, his other kneading the skin of her hip in time with her motions. She glances up at him every now and then, just to make sure she still has his approval, and when she notes how his eyes are closed, how his breathing is shaky and uneven, how there's tiny droplets of sweat rolling down his throat as he swallows and moans, it fuels her. It makes her want to do even more things to him. For now though, she settles for this. Her entire world becomes just the two of them, curled up in bed together, with no barriers between them.

She doesn't know how much longer she can take it. It's too hot.

Not too much longer, it seems. As she begins to notice fluid seeping out, dripping over her fingers and making her strokes down his length that much easier, Ringabel suddenly grabs her wrist with his free hand, preventing her from moving. Edea glances up into his half-lidded, hazy eyes.

"Edea," And the way he says her name sends a wave of heat right down to her pulsing center. "If you- if you let me…. ah, come, I'll be useless for a while." He laughs, a little self-depreciating, but the laugh is punctuated by a long groan, and his hips jerk up into her hand all the same as she strokes him, despite his grip.

"It's fine," she breathes, entranced by how a man usually so collected, whose she's seen fall apart in such frightening ways before, can fall apart in such a wondrous and exciting way. She keeps stroking him, and she watches as his eyes close, his breath catching as he cries out her name over and over until finally. Finally Ringabel stiffens and his whole body is overtaken by a delightful shudder while he actually whimpers. She watches his cock, watch it pulse in her hands as his fluids spill over her fingers and smear against her lower belly, and she's aware how hot it feels. And how hot her own center feels.

She's just made him come, made him orgasm, and though her hand is now messy and she doesn't know what to do with it, Edea feels powerful. She's going to have to do that again sometime. She laughs a little as she leans against him, kissing him eagerly. He returns the kiss, though he seems somewhat dazed, and his arms wrap tightly around her.

For a few moments she's content with this, pressing herself fully against his chest and enjoying the warmth, the gentleness of his body against hers. And though his lips taste salty, it doesn't stop her from curling her tongue around his, lazily exploring his mouth.

They need to breathe eventually, and she pulls back so she can look at him, using her clean hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear (and surreptitiously wiping her other hand on the sheets). "Is it always like that?" She asks him. He's a guy. From her time in the military, she knows what guys do in their free time.

He is still breathless, but he leans down to kiss the side of her mouth all the same. "No, not always. That was much, much better." And then his arms wrap around her body and he falls back with a slight noise into the bed, pulling her with him.

Edea laughs then, because she's having fun, and because he's happy and satisfied, which strangely makes her happy and satisfied too. And for a moment she rests her head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart pounding. His heartbeat reverberates through her, and she can feel it in her own chest, her head, and that hot, wet area between her legs.

She shifts her legs, pressing her thighs together to try to relieve the pulsing.

Of course, he notices. How can he not, when they're so close?

"Are you… not satisfied?" He asks, as though unsure of himself. His hand moves up to cradle her bare hip, his nails trailing lightly at the skin there. All that does is feed the itch that she needs scratched inside.

"No," she says bluntly, and squirms around until she can sit up, slipping her hand down between her legs. She's a teenager, this type of touching isn't foreign to her, even if she doesn't do it often; find exercise and sword training to be a little more satisfying. Though exercise and sword training usually don't leave her aching this much.

"Let me," Ringabel says gently, and he nudges her so that she's lying back on the bed now, with him hovering half over her, half beside her. It's a little intimidating, he's so big, and while just a while ago that hadn't phased her, now it's a whole different story. It makes her nervous. She doesn't know what to do with her hands. Keep them on her stomach, still messy with his previous discharge? Or… grab the bedsheets? His shoulder?

Ringabel kisses her, the kiss hard and fervent, surprising from him. "Beautiful," he murmurs against her mouth, and she feels her face heat up. "You're beautiful." His praise is whole-hearted and sincere, and Edea decides she can bring her hands up to cover her blushing face.

"Ringabel," she groans, a hint of irritation in her voice. He takes it as a sign to move further down, his lips trailing down her neck, kissing the sensitive skin there, before he explores her collarbone with his tongue.

Less talking, more… more of this. More of his mouth burning a trail down her body, his fingers sparking every time they trace down her sensitive skin. For not having had sex before, he's stupid good at this. Stupid casanova. Stupid Ringabel. One of her hands fist in his hair when he finds her breasts, breathing out his approval against the slight curve of one as he nips the skin before suckling at it. That's going to leave a mark, she thinks dizzily. That's fine.

"They're not very big," she hears herself saying aloud, in response to his hands cupping her breasts. They fit in his palms, but not much more.

"They're _perfect_," Ringabel replies, and there's amusement in his tone before he shuts himself up, taking one hardened nipple into his mouth. Ah..! She'd never thought of herself as having sensitive breasts, but there's something about the wet heat of his mouth that's much different than anything she's ever experienced.

The noise Edea makes is embarrassing, crying out her approval as his tongue gently caresses that all too sensitive nub, alternating lapping and suckling, and all of her thoughts have escaped her. All she can think about is that the sensations in her breasts as he suckles and plays with them are spiraling down into her stomach, building up tightly to into a burning inferno. She's too warm, too hot, and his mouth is not the relief that she needs.

When his fingers brush gently, almost hesitantly down her quivering stomach to reach the junction between her legs, stroking the wet already there, she nearly weeps in relief. The sharp sensation is desperately needed, and she opens her legs to give him greater access, not caring what it looks like.

He doesn't seem to care either. She can hear his breath, ragged and unsteady, as he moves away from her breasts, her nipples swollen from his loving attention, his tongue now kissing her navel. And down further still, until he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

The sensation of his lips and tongue against the most private, most sensitive part of her body is something she doesn't think she can ever forget. She yanks roughly at his hair, crying out as his tongue experimentally curls around the center of her womanhood, that little bump she'd never really paid much attention to before.

All thoughts have fizzled out, replaced only by static and white noise rushing through her ears. She's vaguely aware of the cries she's making in response to what he's doing, each new touch and caress better than the one last, but doesn't care. And even though she feels Ringabel slip one, and then two fingers inside, she doesn't register any sort of pain or discomfort at the penetration. If anything, it makes things _better_.

"C'mere," she manages to mumble, tugging on the back of his hair, and Ringabel obeys, his fingers keeping a steady, slow rhythm inside of her while he adds yet another, preparing her even while he straightens to answer her. "Why are you - how did you-" Anything she wants to ask him is lost when his thumb rubs circles against her center. Dammit.

There's a gentle, loving smile on his face when he kisses her, and she notices with a slight thrill that she can taste herself on his lips.

This is too good. Her hands fist in his hair and she yanks too hard, causing the man to wince in pain. "Sorry," she breathes, unable to wrap her mind around anything but that feeling in her core. Her hips are still twitching up against his hand, but he keeps his movements steady as well as he can through her jerking, and their kiss.

"I… I have… never done something like this before. I've only read about it, " he admits with a shaky laugh, and his breathing is rough and unsteady to her ears. "Please tell me if it-"

"I don't care," she interrupts him, perhaps a little more harshly than she should. "It's… good. Keep going. Don't… don't stop." A ragged groan escapes her lips before she adds. "Please." For good measure. She stops just short of begging him.

Instead of going back down, he presses his face against her neck, and his breath is warm while he nuzzles, and kisses. It would be kind of cute, if it weren't for why he was nuzzling, and she wonders if he can hear the pounding of her heart.

However inexperienced he is doesn't matter. All that matter is that he's slowly but surely feeding the flame that threatens to engulf her completely from its base between her legs. Though she's muffled her cries with her own palm flattened against her mouth, it doesn't help much. She's aware that she's still loud, perhaps shamefully so, but doesn't quite care. This feels good. This feels really good and she doesn't care if the whole world hears it. Doesn't care if they hear how her voice reaches a fever pitch as those fingers inside of her hit something that feels impossibly good. Doesn't care how it looks when she curls in on herself, crying out the man's name over and over, demanding more, right there, right _there_. And she doesn't care about anything at all when she hits her peak, fireworks going off inside her head and in her belly. She simply clings to the man beside her as she sobs out his name.

There's a buzzing all over her body, in her head, and she lays, half-curled against him for a moment as she tries to regain her higher thinking processes. Ringabel is quiet, his hand gently trailing back and forth over her leg and hip, and the silence is comforting.

She may have fallen asleep for a moment, but her eyes blink open when Ringabel kisses her, smiling. "Are you all right?" He asks.

"Nngh." She so helpfully replies. "M'good." She manages a moment later and her hips twitch at the memory, "It's good."

Ringabel exhales slowly, as though he'd been holding his breath, and then he kisses her forehead. "We can stop here, if you'd like. This is enough. " He tells her and though it's very tempting, because a nap sounds amazing right now, one quick glance between them tells her that may not the nicest option. He's half hard again and the sight kindles the heat in her that had yet to be fully extinguished. She shakes her head, and reaches out to stroke the shaft, running her fingers across the fleshy, sensitive underside.

The little gasp he makes is worth hearing, and she plays with him a little, drawing hearts lightly on the skin with the very tip of her nail, across the glans and back down, until her fingers come to rest at his base, surrounded by trimmed downy blond hair… that makes her laugh.

"What is it?" He asks, by now used to her random giggles. Edea looks up at him to see him smiling, if not somewhat confused.

"It's just…" There's giggles again as she tries to explain it. Maybe she should be taking this more seriously, but it's _funny_. "Your, you know - your pubic hair - I was half expecting it to be styled in a pompadour too!"

Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that. He stares at her blankly for a moment, watches her crack up and laugh into the pillow nestled under her head, before he sucks in a breath… only to laugh as well. For a few moments, they're laughing together, Ringabel hiding his face in his hands, and Edea trying to get herself under control.

Has she ruined the mood?!

Finally, her laughter dies down, and she jerks his length roughly with her fingers again, pleased to see that the interruption doesn't seem to have affected him. Ringabel has to swallow, his mouth dry, before he finally answers her.

"It would get messed up too easily, I'm afraid. Better to just keep it neatly trimmed." And he pauses. "Why are we discussing this?"

She giggles again. "This is what our life has become. I'm sorry, Ringabel."

His sense of humour has always been like hers. Her comment only makes him laugh, and he leans to kiss her temple. "I would rather my life become making love to you."

Just like that, that simple statement whispered in her ear, Edea feels the fire between her legs start to burn again. "How do you do that?" She wonders out loud.

"I beg your pardon?" Right. He can't feel the heat his words have caused. Instead of answering, Edea takes his hand and places it at the junction between her legs again. He breathes in, and then exhales. "Ah, yes… right." And without any further comment, his fingers stroke her aching sex. In response, her fingers wrap around his length again, stroking him firmly, enjoying how easily she can control his need.

This is really nice. It really is. She'd never have guessed she'd feel this good, feel this safe, feel this loved in Ringabel's arms. They had come so far since their first meeting, when she didn't think she'd ever be able to stand him. And now…

Edea reaches up to touch his face, cradling his cheek gently with one hand. "Let's keep going." She tells him, swallowing. To keep going would mean…

Ringabel breathes out, and she's aware of a flush spreading down his neck, splotchy pattern over his cheeks. "Are you certain? Absolutely certain?"

His concern is understandable, but frustrating. There's an ache between her legs that must be abated, and the best way to do that is to keep going. To take him completely. "Yes," she says against his mouth. "Please." She adds for good manners. Just in case.

After a moment's hesitation, a moment's kiss, Ringabel nods his head, swallowing. "I … alright. Very well." And then he nudges her so that she's on her back, rolling over so he can settle on top of her, between her legs, which she opens a little further so that he can get settled.

He looks a little awkward like that, kneeling between her open legs, his hands and lips trailing a path from knee to foot. But the sight of it still causes her breath to catch and she opens her arms for him, beckoning him to come closer.

He does.

Ringabel is… heavy on top of her, but the weight is comforting. She's enjoying it, even, and he's warm, all the way from where their shoulders meet to their hips. She can't believe she's never appreciated his body like this before, keeping her safe beneath him. Maybe she could get used to this? She runs her hand along his side, feeling old scars and wondering when he'd gotten them. Who he had gotten them as.

His hair is damp with sweat, sticking to both his temple and hers and draping into her eyes when he leans his forehead against hers briefly. Silly boy. She kisses him hard.

A small sob escapes his mouth as his lips press hungrily against hers, and her fingers dig into the skin of his back. She can _feel_ him, that hard heat pressing against her thigh that pulses in response to her own need. It's… it's not unpleasant, and she pulls back so she can touch his cheek, run her fingers through his messy hair and cradle his face with both of her hands.

He meets her gaze with half-lidded eyes, clouded with want and surprisingly bright and wet. There's so many emotions mixed up in there, she think she'll get lost before she can disentangle them. Edea finds she has to swallow before she can speak up, her throat dry. "Ringabel," she says his name and his eyes slip shut for a moment before he can look at her again. "It's okay," she tries to reassure him, and she kisses his mouth gently, her breath as ragged as his. "It's okay, so… keep going."

That does the trick, reassures him, and he shifts a little, reaching between them to steady himself, slicking his fingers down her sex as he does so. Despite her own words, Edea tenses just a little. She doesn't have much (any) experience with this, but everything she'd heard was that it was supposed to hurt, wasn't it? And the last thing Ringabel would ever do was hurt her.

But, as she feels the head of his member press against and then inside, Edea feels something inside of her give. It's physical but not entirely, a feeling in the pit of her stomach and her chest that grows and burns. She gasps, unable to stifle the noise of being filled.

He stops once he's fully inside of her, but stays his hips still, and the muscles in his toned legs are tense against hers as he holds the position. "Does it… are you alright?" His voice, so close to her ear, sounds worried, and she can hear how desperate he is. Desperate, and yet she has no doubt that if she says no, he'll stop immediately.

She squeezes her arms around him, shifts a little so her legs can wrap around his. The movement is- weird, it's weird. She's got Ringabel inside her, after all. But it doesn't hurt, not like she had expected it to. She supposes that her muscles, well toned and fit on the outside, are maybe just as toned on the inside? One of her hands worms between them to press down on her lower belly, right above their joining, just to feel the sensation.

"I'm fine," she tells him, and then kisses him again and tries to motivate him with, "I'm yours." Her face burns a little at the cheesiness of the line

But it works. Ringabel groans, and his tongue licks the curve of her ear, before he slips out and presses back in with rough, unrefined motion that makes her cry out loudly at the sheer sensation behind it, her nails digging into his shoulder instinctively. He grins against her neck and she wants to pout. It's not fair, how could she have been prepared for that?!

His motions truly begin now, and Edea finds herself clinging to him as he rocks into her, hesitant at first until he finds a rhythm, spurred on by her encouragement. The feeling in the base of her stomach is unlike anything she's ever felt before. It's a sharp pleasure that builds and spirals and twists, and she can't hold back the moans that slip past her lips in time with his motions, vaguely hoping that no one can hear.

Ringabel is mostly quieter, his noises soft gasps and moans, muffled in her skin as he holds her close against him. But he isn't holding anything back, perhaps isn't able to, and Edea is vaguely aware of the sound of the bedsprings under load as his hips pump relentlessly against hers. She giggles to herself; poor Tiz and his bed.

"Mm?" Ringabel manages to ask, nothing more than a strangled groan. Whoops. Edea shakes her head, kisses him briefly. Nothing to do with him, or his performance. The smile he gives her in return is heartrending.

But she pushes back slightly on his chest. "Sit up," she manages to say after a while, because the pulsing between her legs is almost unbearable and she feels so hot, and he's a little too warm now on top of her.

He obeys her, sitting back on his heels but keeping her close, gently dragging Edea up with him until she's settled on his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist instead. She sighs a little at the feeling of the air hitting her bare skin as she settles her head against his shoulder. It's a little muggy, smelling like sweat and something she's slowly identifying as the smell of sex. It smells like him, and the both of them.

From her position now on Ringabel's lap, the sensation between her leg is wholly different. He's still inside, and still warm, but it's...it's different. She moans her approval into his neck, and experimentally rocks her hips down against his when he moves up, rewarding herself with a sharp stab of pleasure. She could definitely get used to this.

"Edea," he forces out, his voice is low and hoarse, his breath uneven. "I … I can't..." Couldn't hold out much longer, judging from the way the pumping of his hips up against her was becoming erratic and less restrained than before. He seems desperate to finish.

Her eyes closed, she smiles and kisses the warm skin of his shoulder. "It's okay, " she tells him again. "Please." Please let go.

Her permission granted, it's just a few more thrusts before she feels him stiffen underneath her, his whole body tensing as he presses himself into her _hard_ for one long moment, and there's a peculiar sensation of heat spreading inside of her as he climaxes. Her own name is cried into her ear as he loses control for a moment, and Edea meets his cry with her own, vocalizing how good that last thrust had felt. She… probably shouldn't have allowed him to do that, considering everything she'd knew, but she'd already told him that it was okay and she refused to back down now. Her fingers are gentle on his back, massaging those muscles there as he first relaxes, and then goes practically boneless against her, spent.

A quiet whine escapes her lips after a moment. She's still pulsing inside, still unsatisfied, and she squirms against him. "Ringabel…" She cries. It's not fair. It's not fair! She wants release too, now that she's so close.

Her cries do not fall on deaf ears. She feels his shaking fingers slip down her body, and she reacts to his quiet request for her to lean back, pulling away until his mouth closes over a nipple. This is much better, and she lets her eyes slip shut so she can just _feel_. Feel the way his tongue caresses and curls over the sensitive nub, feel how his fingers have found the center between her legs, and how purposeful his touch is as he works to satisfy her. It's a just a few blissful, blinding moments later that the heat in her belly bubbles over and all she's aware of is the waves of intense pleasure and her own wailing cries. It's official, sex is great.

Her shuddering subsides, and Ringabel has wrapped his arms back around her to hold her closely, his lips gentle and loving against her shoulder. She rests her head against his. Of all the ways to spend this last night…this was probably one of the best. Probably.

"I love you," she hears him murmur, and he punctuates the confession with a sleepy kiss to her neck.

How can he say that so easily, even now? She swallows, and her throat is a little dry from all the sound she had been making. "I… I know." She manages, but can't quite bring herself to return the sentiment. She loves him, quite dearly, but it's another thing to vocalize the sentiment, and it's harder than before, with all the emotions swirling inside her. Something stops her from telling him again, though she tries, "Ringabel, I…"

He cuts her off with a kiss and a sign, leaning his forehead against hers for a moment. "I love you, Edea." And there's an edge to the way he's said her name that makes her shiver again. "Let's… let's get some rest."

And though he slips out, and they have to pull apart for a moment to get settled back on the bed, Ringabel retrieving the blankets from the floor, she can't detect a hint of bitterness in his motions, or in the gentle kisses that he presses against her exposed skin at every chance, and when they curl up beside each other, her head resting on his shoulder, his eyes are still sad and full of complicated emotions, but there's an all-encompassing love and peace in them as well.

She's glad for that, at least. It's what she wanted. And even though there's a slight soreness between her legs and in her thighs she knows she'll definitely be feeling tomorrow, she doesn't feel an ounce of regret.

"Thank you," she breathes against his mouth, lips brushing gently against his. She feels more than sees the corners downturn for a moment before he kisses her back somewhat lazily, and his voice is low and quiet, tired.

"No need, Edea. I am yours, after all."

Everything they've just done, and it's that simple, matter-of-fact statement that makes her blush the most.

His hair is lying limply across the pillow, and his gray eyes are closed now as he settles into a light doze, mouth slack, face unlined. It's a wonderful sight, and Edea watches him sleep for a few moments before the emotional and physical exertion from the night's activities catch up with her, and she drifts off into a deep, dreamless sleep in his arms.

* * *

Tiz had placed his hand on the door to open it, when a loud cry from within makes him pull it back, as though the handle were a viper. "Wh-wha?" Confused he may be, but there's an underlying tone to that cry that makes him start to flush. What could they be possibly...

"What is it, Tiz?" Agnès asks from beside him, and he affords her the smallest of glances. He doesn't know to even begin to approach explaining this to her. He doesn't know if he even _can_.

His voice is cracking, just the slightest bit, as it always does when he's nervous. "Ah, it's just. I thought I heard something. Maybe we should give them some… some privacy?"

"Privacy? Do you think they're discussing something not meant for our ears?"

Tiz is fairly certain they're not actually _discussing_ anything, and he opens his mouth in an attempt to stammer out a response when the rhythmic sound of a bed squeaking under movement meets his ears, punctuated by louder moans than before. Country boy he may be, but walls were thin in Norende, and he knows what that sound means. He also knows that his face is full on burning now, up to the tips of his ears. They're really, actually doing i_t._

He's not going to listen to this…! More importantly, he isn't going to let Agnès listen to this. He puts his hands on Agnès' shoulders, finding himself flustered just at the contact. "Let's just.. let's go elsewhere. They're ah, they're busy." That's not the best wording to use, but he's embarrassed and isn't up to really explaining things like that to Agnès now. Or ever.

Even she can hear the noises now, and her eyes are wide as she glances between the door and Tiz's face, and he can see the moment when it clicks in her mind what's transpiring behind the closed door. Even she can't miss the pleasure in the soft cries drifting out. Her face blooms red and she steps away from him, turning away and covering her cheeks. "... Unacceptable!" She squeaks out.

He swallows, his throat dry. "Like I said, let's just sleep somewhere else tonight?" He hopes she doesn't read into that suggestion. He really would like to just rest, but it's not like they can go in the room now!

He also hopes she doesn't notice the growing tightness in his pants, that he won't have to explain to her anything more. Walking is uncomfortable, but it must be done, and he herds Agnès down the hall and into the room furthest from their friends for the night

… And he hopes that Ringabel and Edea sleep well, and find peace in each other's arms.


End file.
